girls

Remind me again. Why I’m here. What I love. What my heart yearns for.

I forgot. Or thought it was gone. Until last week.

It hit me while standing in my bathroom. Those girls.

Those girls coming over Saturday. They aren’t any different.

Allie MonckNo different really than my girl. My daughter.

What do I want for her? For them? For the girls we hear about in far away countries who are injured simply because they want to go to school?

Freedom from what hurts them. Today and forever. Desire plus ability to read a book. The allowance to believe they are beautiful and strong. Esteem enough to discover themselves. Who they were created to be.

I didn’t ask to be reminded. But the reminder came. The significance of the day. One year. How far I have come. With the help of others. How far she, my daughter, has come. Dreams fulfilled because of people who care. Who help. Who love. Who stand. Who stand in the gap and proclaim. Encouragement and truth.

Lots of dreams still waiting. Hers. Mine. The rest of the girls’.

I sit and I hope. I want to be a difference maker. One who stands in the gap and proclaims for another because someone did for me. One who opens a door. Even if it opens just enough to let in a small triangle of light.

True to myself, to my own self be true. True to the cause that is more than a cause. More than a movement or a feminist ideal left over from turbulent times. Half the population is not a minority.

So girls it is. It has been for a long while. I just needed the reminder.

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